Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Instructions: Read and ENJOY, dammit!
Sounds of Silence
It was quiet. Too quiet. There was always something to break the silence. Abby's iPod plugged into the stereo, Zoey's Disney movie or the noise of their conversations. But now, there was nothing. No movement, no voices. It was unnerving.
King cocked his head a little, standing very still, straining his over sensitive senses, hoping for some faint sign of life. The silence became deafening, and he walked curiously out along the halls and into the living room. As he stepped into the kitchen, Abby came down the other hall to meet him, the same curious confusion on her features.
Evidently she heard the silence, too. Together they turned and gently pushed open Zoey's door. The girl looked up innocently from her coloring book, crayons spread over the rug on the floor.
"What?" She asked.
"Nothing, sweetie." Abby replied, closing the door behind her. King laughed in the hallway and Abby shook her head.
"We need to get lives."
"Speak for yourself." He huffed indignantly.
"Shut up King, you know you have as little of a social life as I do."
He just made a face, and made to turn away, but Abby spoke.
"Let's go out."
"Huh?"
"You know, King, out. To a bar, go dancing…something! We need some sort of social interaction with people other than each other."
"Why? Aren't I enough?" He pouted.
"Sometimes, you're too much." She muttered over her shoulder at him. "Get dressed, we're outta here in ten."
King looked down at himself. Jeans and a faded blue tee. What was wrong with that? He just rolled his eyes and figured he better do as he was told, otherwise she'd just physically force him to change, anyway. King turned the idea over in his head. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing. He laughed at himself as he changed.
"Whistler, it's been fifteen, what the fuck?" He yelled down the hall. He looked at the VCR clock. 11:15. Zoey was in bed with strict instructions to call should anything disturb her, but the Hideout was very secure. King looked up to see Abby's door open, and something stunning stepped out. Her heels clicked down the hall until she looked up to see King gawking at her like a star struck teen. She stopped and laughed, throwing her arms in the air to strike a pose. Her jeans hugged all the right curves and the spaghetti strap camisole was black and lacy. Tendrils of her upswept hair danced across her shoulders.
King swallowed hard. "You clean up nice, Whistler." He managed. She just smirked.
"You're not too bad yourself." He shrugged proudly. Though he was now only in khakis and a tight navy blue and off white graphic baseball tee.
"So where the hell are we going?" He asked as they headed for the door.
"A club downtown."
Excitement, sweat and vibrations filled the air. King breathed deep as they crossed into the flashing, pulsating club called Silver and jam packed with people. Abby led him by the hand to the bar. She screamed over at the man for two beers and turned to King with a grin. She was positively glowing, and she leaned close to his ear to yell so he could hear.
"Whaddya think?"
King looked around and nodded with a sly grin. They downed their beers and went out to dance. Though he hadn't been to a party in years, King fell back into it easily. And it looked like Abby never left. The tempo was fast, the lights were bright and the room was hot. It was a blast. They both were grinning and laughing as King spun Abby like a ballerina before pulling her close and moving to the music together.
His eyes followed a bead of sweat that graced the column of her neck and trailed excruciatingly slowly down her chest. Oblivious, Abby turned her back to King and pulled his arms tight around her. Setting his chin on her shoulder, they swayed to the slightly slower tempo of the next song.
After allowing a moment of intimacy, Abby linked her fingers through Kings and pulled them back to the bar for another beer and to catch their breath.
"Isn't this better than sitting on our asses at home?"
"Yeah, definitely." King agreed wholeheartedly, then stopped to admire the words that had just come from Abby's lips.
Home.
She seemed oblivious to the weight of her words, and just took a swig of her beer. They watched the people dancing. Abby glanced to King subtly to follow his line of sight, half expecting his eyes to linger on some of the voluptuous, barely clad women that had been throwing longing stares in his direction. But he had hardly noticed them. His eyes scanned back and forth across the floor, and jumped to her. He flashed her a smile and she returned it, a bit nervously, before diverting her eyes.
Abby took a long swig of her beer and looked over to see a man approach her. He was good looking, a few years older than her, wearing pinstripe pants and a white button down shirt, untucked. The man grinned a remarkably disarming smile and asked her to dance. His teeth were beautiful, straight and white. A person's teeth were usually the first thing Abby looked at, an unconscious habit.
Abby set her beer back down, shooting an almost apologetic smile to King before taking the man's hand to be led out onto the floor. King nodded good naturedly, but scowled at their backs and slammed the rest of his beer and Abby's. The nerve of that guy! She was here with him and he asks her to dance!
It was like a train wreck, he didn't want to see it, and yet he couldn't look away from where they danced. One of the man's legs between her own as he held her firmly to him with a hand resting dangerously low on her back. He leaned his mouth close to Abby's ear and said something that made her laugh, her head thrown back and her eyes squint. King could hear it, though the music was too loud for him to hear even the person next to him. It was the way he always made her laugh.
King's lip twitched, fighting the fantasy of knocking the guy out and dragging Abby home with him. The song changed and still they danced. When he couldn't watch them any more, when the jealousy, the anger and the desire for her threatened to drive him mad sitting there on the barstool, King pushed himself furiously from the bar and waded quickly through the masses out to the back door.
The air was cool, and King looked thankfully up at the clear night sky, little diamonds twinkling down at him. He leaned against the cool bricks in the alley, knowing he didn't need to be wary of any nightly predators, but scanning over the dumpsters suspiciously anyway. It was a habit.
King shook his head at himself and chuckled. "You ass." He mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.
Abby's hands were lain gently on the man—Riley's biceps. His arms were wrapped around her, hands warm yet somehow wrong. She was about to shout up to Riley that she was going back to the bar when he grabbed her hand and spun her around. She laughed in spite of herself and he pulled her back against his chest. Abby looked up into his handsome face, sharpened canines revealed as he laughed.
Her body tensed in…fear. Apprehension, anticipation. His eyes…through the blur of lights and the buzz of the beer and a half she'd had, they were gleaming evilly. Abby panicked, pushed him roughly away. His teeth were straight and white, and the gleam in his eyes had nothing to do with the living dead, but everything to do with Abby's scantily clad body against his. She fought off a wave of nausea and backed quickly through the suddenly overwhelming, dense crowd, Riley's confused face disappearing among the twisting bodies.
Abby pushed and spun, searching desperately for any means of escape. She wasn't armed, why hadn't she brought a pistol of Daystar? Because there are no more vampires, she thought briefly. There was no danger here. But the panic had already taken hold of her. She needed to clear her head. Air, escape.
Finally she located a door and made no effort to apologize for roughly shoving through the crowd as she burst out of the door so hard that it slammed against the brick wall with a loud crack and swung shut quickly. She skittered into the alley, her body lurching forward ahead of her feet, and she almost face planted, but she was suddenly in someone's arms.
She gasped, tensed, tried shoving him away. Abby's eyes were wild as she looked left and right, breathing hard, muttering softly nonsensical things, though she couldn't hear her voice through the beating of her heart. Her hands pawed at King's arms, desperate to run away.
"Hey, hey, hey." He spoke, just so she could hear his voice. "Take it easy." He soothed when she ceased writhing.
"Oh King, thank God!" She whispered, relaxing in his arms, her forehead on his chest, fingers wrapped in the fabric at his biceps. Abby pulled back, tears in her eyes. King's hands lingered gingerly at her hips, not wanting to let her go. But she wasn't going to let go of him, anyway. She still grasped his arms, though she leaned back to look in his eyes. Be sure he was there, she was safe.
"I keep seeing them. Wherever I look I see them, King." Her voice was strangled, her brows stitched in concentration. "They're all dead I know that but I still can't get away…" Abby gasped for her breath, fighting a new wave of panic, fearing for her sanity.
King wasn't sure what to do. Seeing her so vulnerable was completely new to him. She was always the one who kicked large amounts of ass, unbreakable, unreadable. So, he did what felt right, he drew her back to him, wrapping his strong arms around her shoulders and feeling her small hands snake around, splaying her fingers across his back.
King swallowed hard and spoke without thinking. There was conviction and reassurance in his voice, because King understood exactly what was happening to her. It had happened to him, too. Since the eradication of the vampires, he'd had fleeting feelings. He'd feel a breath on his neck and turn to see no one there, or out of the corner of his eye see something black move, only to face an empty room. Sometimes he'd even hear Danica's evil cackle down the hall, or her whisper in his ear.
Abby heard all this in his words, and she was soothed to know she was not alone.
"Hey, it's alright, Ab. It's okay, it'll pass, I promise. You're safe."
Her face was buried in his shoulder and her breathing calmed. She wanted to sleep right there. So warm, so safe. But King drew her back with his hands on her shoulders. She looked up wearily into his face.
"Let's go home." Abby said quietly. King smiled and for the briefest of moments entertained the thought 'I am home.' But he chose to leave the thought at just that.
"What about your dancing partner?" He asked contemptuously, and she laughed a little.
"King, are you jealous?"
"Of course not!" King replied, too quickly.
"Good. You have no reason to be." She grinned, and King mirrored it, slinging an arm easily about her shoulders and steering her down the alley toward the bright street. Her arm was still about his trim waist, holding tightly there.
"He couldn't hold a candle to your moves on the floor." Abby added as an afterthought, with a smirk and they laughed.
"Or anywhere else!" King said haughtily, and Abby nodded. Her hand slipped unconsciously under the hem of his shirt to rest on the hot skin of his hip. A shock went through him, tightening the insides of his gut and nearly knocking the wind out of him. Strange how such a small touch could do what all the other women in his life put together couldn't do to him. For the second time that night, King had no idea what to do. So he decided to do what he did before. Go with his instincts, do what felt natural, what felt right.
So, he tightened his arm about her, pulling her closer to press a kiss to her hair.
Good, bad, ugly? Drop me a line via the pretty purple review button and let me know your thoughts. Or just to chat. I don't really care, I'm not picky, I just like hearing from fellow fanfic-ers. So do me a favor and review, and I'll love you forever.
In closing, I am, yet again, yours truly, sincerely,
Austy Lou Bentley
